Charlie Davis and the Big Kaboom
by bisexualcharliedavis
Summary: October 23rd, 2077: The bombs drop, beginning the two hour world devastating war known later as 'The Great War' Ballarat, Victoria: Charlie Davis and Rose Anderson try to make it to the safety of vault A111.


_A/N: this fic is a crossover with the Fallout franchise, but you don't need to know much if anything about it to understand this fic. This is also a prequel to Charlie Davis and the Big Sleep, which was posted on a03 but frankly..isnt very good. Any whom. Glad to be writing again. Enjoy, leave a review if you liked it :-)_

_..._

Charlie has not been in a silent house for eight months now.

One of the new rules that the Doc had implemented was that anyone in the house needed to have a radio on because otherwise, they might miss the warnings that the bomb had dropped. Naturally, there was also a strict list of stations that they were allowed to listen too, a list that had been getting shorter and shorter as they all slowly encroached on what Blake considered to be good moral fiber. Charlie had no such desire to listen to the Turkish news, seeing as he didn't speak Turkish and had never been there but you know? He'd like the option to be able to should he so desire.

Charlie couldn't wait for this God-forsaken war to be over. Most people were probably the same, he rationalized but most people were not police officers. Being a police officer used to mean something, used to be something that people respected. He was pretty sure it would be still; if those godforsaken American soldiers hadn't taken over their station and put the actual officers more or less out to pasture so that they could look for communist spies and arrange executions that even the staunchest death penalty supporters would have trouble supporting.

Matthew was taking it the hardest. He'd fought valiantly for his station and his people but in the end, it was for moot. Sure, they went to work, and they filed reports but they never investigated, not anymore. More often than not, their callouts were drunken fights between their American support and drunken Australians the same way that they had been back in the last world war according to Jean. She would know; Charlie had spent most of the last more supporting his mother and getting a job.

It was, well. It was ineffective. And when people took issue with the Americans, they usually went for the ones that they deemed responsible. Charlie, for example. It was out of his control, not that anyone else seemed to respect that. If Mattie were here, then she'd probably say something smart about a separation forming between law enforcement and the people. She'd also probably be dead since she was a communist sympathizer and all.

They were also living under a cloud of suspicion of course, with Blake's family and all. He can't imagine living like that, not knowing if you'd ever see your family again. He might not be able to get to his family, and of course, transfers were off the table but at least he could call them up, talk to them, see how they were. Blake had a daughter that might as well be on a different planet.

And the cracks were beginning to show as well. Lately, being at home was just about as bad as being at the station. Blake was always on edge, coming up with new rules for them to be able to get to the shelter in time. Rose was perpetually accusing them of being tools in the fascist machine, Jean was worried about her son and Matthew was annoyed that there was always so much noise in the house. It seemed the only person able to maintain some level of sanity was Danny. Charlie had no idea how he was able to stay so calm with the threat of nuclear annihilation hanging just over their heads.

Hell, just the night before, Blake had launched into one of his rants about how he didn't get locked up in a camp during World War II so that they could lock up honest, hard-working Australians when he got home. True, it might have been a meaningful speech the first ten, maybe even the first fifteen times he heard it, now it was more of a frustration than it was anything else. Which was an unfair thing to think of course. This was something his friend; The friend who had reserved him space in a vault no less. Charlie wouldn't have had one otherwise since he had no family in Ballarat and had never served in the military but Blake was willing to give him his second vault space. One of his closest friends was passionate about, but Charlie was just one man. One man with no special powers of contacts. There was quite literally nothing that he could do about it. Blake got himself so worked up that he ended up throwing his plate across the room in a dramatic flourish. It missed Danny by inches.

This brought Blake back to the real world and he apologized profusely for it. Jean started to clean up the plate. He and Rose made awkward eye contact with one another across the table the way that they so often did. The way that they seemed to be doing now. Softly, the radio played Hangin' On Baby, and outside the air was pleasant.

"So you're okay with it?" She asked, finally. With little other choice, Charlie shrugged.

"What am I supposed to do about it?" He replied, "Endanger my family? No thank you."

"You're buying into it, Charlie!" She exclaimed, waving her arms to accentuate her point.

"Buying into what? Not risking my job and family?"

"The machine! The war machine! If someone was in a position to make a change, it's you."

"Sure, if I was the boss of a station or maybe the commissioner of the police. But those American soldiers in their power armor, they don't even see me as human let alone care about what I have to say."

"So what you're saying is that I should talk to my uncle." She said; a devious smile on her face.

"No! Not!" Charlie said, aghast.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm the one that's going to get my head chewed off about it." He replied, and took a sip of tea, finding it still too hot to be drinkable. Rose scoffed at him,

So you're only concerned about your skin, is that the take away here?"

"Rose Anderson, don't tell me that you haven't been listening to Blake's many and varied lectures about how the only person you should be concerned at the end of the world is you." She very maturely stuck her tongue out at him.

"You are allowed to have an independent thought, you know."

"Only in theory." Charlie replied, "I'm pretty sure that the doc can read minds." Reaching up, she massaged her temple with her fingers. Over the radio, they transitioned to the news. The reporter, as uptight and annoying as usual launched into a spiel about casualties in America and urging people to report any Chinese people living in their area.

Not too long ago, Blake had said something about war, and how it doesn't change and Charlie was inclined to believe that.

Rose just rolled her eyes at him, and settled back in her chair. Days like today, Charlie was sad it didn't work between them. He knew, and he had always known that it was not a serious thing and she was within, more than within her rights, to call it off, and he liked being her friend. But was he such a bad guy for wanting a girlfriend in what seemed to be the most tumultuous time in human history? Someone to talk to, someone to confess his fears too. The usual stuff.

Maybe he should go to those Singles Nights that Jean was always telling him about. He knew there was on this weekend and maybe he would go and see what there was to see. Meet who there was to meet. As his mother had said in their last phone call, she wanted grandkids and he wasn't getting any younger. Charlie supposed he'd probably like to be a father. But not any time soon, he didn't want to have kids in such trying times when his job wasn't secure.

He stood up, and proceeded to gather up the remaining lunch dishes and carry them to the sink. No sense in leaving a mess for Jean, he thought idly as he started running the water. The air bubbles trapped in the pipes screamed out when he added cold water to the hot so he could tolerate sticking his hands in it. Rose didn't offer to help him, but she was a guest so he expected that.

He tuned half an ear into the radio to see what was playing and heard...Dead air. Knowing he was probably just being paranoid, he turned to face Rose who was also looking at the radio in surprise.

The announcer begins to speak again, this time sounding more harried and frightened than he ever had. His name was Joey, actually, and Charlie met him on a case once. Married, two children who'd be toddlers by now.

"Yes, followed by...Flashes. Blinding flashes. Followed by..Sounds of explosions. We're...We're trying to get confirmation."

They both looked away from the radio wide-eyed, both trying to figure out if they should go now and risk looking like idiots or wait for the confirmation to come in.

"What's he...What's he saying?" Rose asked, standing and following Charlie's eyes to the outside where people were beginning to mobilize and head for the vault; if they had a space there or not.

"But we seem to have lost contact with our affiliate stations." Joey continued, and Charlie hastily turned off the taps. He knew that they had to go and go now but it seemed like his whole body was frozen into place, listening.

"We...We do have coming in...Confirmed reports. I repeat confirmed reports of nuclear detonations in Perth and Adelaide. My God."

The radio began playing dead air again. Charlie managed to snap out of it and looked at Rose again. She looked back at him, eyes huge and wet. His brain flipped into survival mode, and he grabbed her by the hand.

"We have to go."

"Wait, we need ID to get into the vault. I need to get my handbag."

"Hurry!" He said as she broke into a sprint into the hallway. Charlie felt his pocket and found his wallet still there, along with the lanyard around his neck that Blake had insisted they should all wear in case of this. The man might be a paranoid bastard, but he was right. She came back around the corner and they both took off in a sprint through the back door.

Charlie was glad again, for Blake and his paranoia. If he hadn't woken them all up in the middle of the night, yelling like a crazy person that the bombs were coming and forcing them all to get to the vault in their pajamas, then he'd have no idea how to get there.

Charlie ran through the backyard, his feet feeling as though they had barely touched the ground. Rose was just behind him, and he could hear her panting slightly as they made their way towards the vault. Once they crossed the back yard, they had to cross a small creek with a little bridge that was built into the backyard of one of their more wealthy neighbors, turn a corner up to the hill, to the vault.

Once he was at the vault, he would just have to stand there until they let them in.

He just had to get there first.

He cleared the bridge in two long steps and heard Rose just behind him.

He wasn't thinking as he turned the corner, other than a single-minded pursuit of the safety the vault was going to give them. He just had to get there. That was the only thing he had to do, get to the vault. Everything else, singles dances, calling his mother, his job, it was all leaking out his ears. The only thing he felt capable of doing was putting one foot in front of the other to the vault.

There, in the distance, he saw it. The dirt hill leading up to the vault. He tried to pick up more speed. Who knew how long until a bomb detonated right on their heads?

"Up there!" He called, pointing his finger at the hill, expecting to hear something from Rose, right behind him. He didn't hear anything, and when he turned around his stomach just about escaped through his mouth. Rose wasn't right behind him. He couldn't see her at all.

He skidded to a halt, the vault seemingly within his grasp. In a split second, he made a choice drilled into him in the last ten years of being a cop. He did exactly what Blake told him not to do. He turned around and started running back the way he came passing people making the same pilgrimage as him.

"It's not worth it, son! Head to the vault!" a woman yelled as he dashed by. He narrowly avoided collision with another man. A woman and two children stared as he crossed the bridge again. There! Against that tree! Rose!

She was leaning on the tree, one hand against her chest gasping for air.

"What are you doing?" He demanded, grabbing her hand and forcing her a few stumbling steps forward. Rose almost tripped over her own feet.

"Can't breathe. Charlie, God, Charlie."

Vaguely, he understood the concept of an anxiety attack. He supposed that she couldn't control it but they needed to move now or they'd both be dead. He didn't know if he was strong enough to pick her up and carry her; according to the special stats he'd had to register, he was more about agility than he was strength. He continued trying to lead her; but it was unbearably slow going. His heartfelt as though it was pounding furiously against his chest, and he was just waiting to see that telltale mushroom cloud in the distance, ending their lives in a blast of heat and radiation.

But it doesn't come. Not yet, anyway. Not while they're still walking up the hill. They don't have time for this. They're already out of time. Thinking with only his brain, Charlie tried to urge her faster but she couldn't breathe and could only go so fast. Passing him, a man says leave her and run but he can't do that. It's physically impossible for him to abandon his friend, so he pushes on around the corner, grateful to any God that happened to be listening that the vault was built so close to the house otherwise he may as well have just laid down and died.

"I have to stop, I have to stop," Rose said, up against his ear but Charlie endeavored to keep moving. He could apologize to her when they were safe. But they had to be safe first. At the bottom of the hill, he realized that he would have to carry her the last little bit and so, fueled by adrenaline, he grabbed her in his arms and staggered up the hill. Her gasping in his ear sounded like nails on a chalkboard. But they were moving. They just had to reach the top, maybe he could give her to one of the Americans? Lifting her in power armor would be like lifting a small child.

God, don't think of children. Don't think of the brothers you'll never see again. Don't think about their smiles or their faces, just survive this. They wouldn't want you to die because you got sentimental. Push, push, push. He told himself, as he finally, finally crested the hill and deposited Rose onto her feet.

People were rushing around like headless chickens, screaming furiously that there were bombs incoming and they didn't have much time. The guard at the gate does not seem to understand this. He looks almost bored as Charlie thrusts his lanyard at him.

"Davis, C. I should be under L, Blake?."

"You can enter." The man says, and the people leaning up against the fence are screaming to be let in. The sound bounces around inside his skull, threatening to pop out of his eyeballs.

"Can she go in on my I.D while I find hers?" He asked, tipping the contents of Rose's handbag out on the ground, and dropping to his knees to find something.

"You can only enter on your I.D." He says. "Does she have one on her?"

"She does." He says, as he finally snatched up her wallet. Inside, her license. He thrust it at the man, who looked down at it.

"Who is she under?"

"Uncle Matthew!" She gasped, before trying to correct herself, "Lawson, M! M Lawson!"

"You can both go in." Says the man, stepping aside to let them pass. Charlie ushers Rose forward, and to his surprise, he saw a figure leave the inset elevator pad and run up to them. He'd recognize that run anywhere. Seems as though Blake had left the elevator, and broken his own rules to help his friends. He grabbed Rose and lifted him over his shoulder in a fireman's hold.

The elevator itself was a large slightly raised circular pad, with a gear-shaped design so universally associated with Vault Tech shape in the center. To his left, a control box with a man in a lab coat inside. All around him, people in Army uniforms, both Australia and America. Over the top of the hill, it was built into he could see a beautiful view of the city. A chain-link fence walled them in on all sides, people hung off it, fingers curled into little crescent moons between the wire, begging for their salvation as well.

"Go!" Blake shouted, and Charlie didn't need to be told twice. He ran to the platform as quickly as he could, making it just in time for Danny to grab onto him. He stood, for a moment, frozen in both time and space. Like his brain was seizing up. Out in front of him, there was the largest boom he'd ever heard in his life. He turned to face it, eyes going wide in shock. Danny grabbed him by the arm. He tore his eyes away with seemingly superhuman strength so see neither Rose or Blake present.

But he could see them, just off the platform. With a loud creaking, the big gear-shaped elevator started to move. Using his foot to bridge the gap, he held his arm out, desperate to grab Blake and Rose. They had only seconds. He managed to grab something fabric, and Danny grabbed onto him. With their combined strength, they managed to pull Blake and Rose over the edge, and they as well as Charlie, thumped onto the downwards moving platform at the last possible second.

He didn't even have the strength to move he felt so overwhelmed. Apparently, neither did Rose, before she sat shell shocked, as Danny wrapped his arms around her. Blake inched himself over to Charlie and proceeded to hug him tightly. It took half a second, but Charlie hugged him back.

With a loud thud, the platform came to a halt but none of the four of them moved for half a second. Charlie realized he was crying into Blake's arm, and Blake was crying into his shoulder. People were moving, some were following the instructions of the blue-suited Vault-Tec Security. Some were standing in the corridor, and a couple were also just sitting, overwhelmed like them.

"Doc?" Asked a voice from behind them and Charlie almost curses it. He doesn't want this moment to stop. He just wants to be here, safe for the rest of his life but his wants are not to be because Rose should really, seriously see a doctor. Blake let him go and turned around.

"I'll take her to see if there are any first-aid stations around here." He told Charlie and Danny, as Charlie was slowly able to compose himself. Charlie watched as he hurried to speak to Vault-Tec Security, and the two of them were whisked away before Charlie can even get his mind together enough to speak to either of them. He can feel one hell of a headache coming on.

He stood slowly, not sure his legs could support him, and leaned on Danny as they joined the very end of the queue of people waiting for their ugly blue jumpsuits.

"Where were you?" Charlie found himself asking since they had nothing better to do.

"Me and the Doc were just driving home." Danny replied, "Boss sent us back to the scene, and then we decided to stop home for lunch."

"The Pours case?" Charlie guessed.

"Yeah. Didn't find anything." Danny said, "Doc thinks that we need to talk to the husband again."

Then they both fell silent, simultaneously realizing that they were under now; they would never work a case officially, go to the station or even see Lawson again. It sat like a rock in his stomach as he finally realized who wasn't here. No Jean, no Doctor Harvey, no Bill Hobart, Ned Simmons or Peter Crowe. His family were in Melbourne if they were lucky, Bernie's homemade shelter might have saved them from the worst of it but Charlie has no way of knowing. God, he'll never see his brothers grow up. He'll never hug them, or tell them he loves them or sleep in the same bed.

It's a lot for anyone to handle and as calm as he ever was Danny put a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't think about that." He said, "We have each other."

"Yeah." Charlie agreed, wondering what family Danny had left behind up there. He knew he had a sister (because he'd arrested her for possession), and a mother but would he miss them? Danny and his mother had a very different relationship to Charlie and his. The idea of never hearing her voice again weighed heavily on him. He committed himself to memorize her face as best he could as they slowly moved forward in the line.

He wondered if he might hear something from above, but all he can hear is chatter from the people around them. There are maybe twenty civilians, but no shortage of Vault-Tec. All and all, he guessed he could see maybe fifty people? Some were identifiable by their blue and yellow jumpsuits with large numbers printed on the back. A-111. He guessed that was their vault number. He didn't need to guess that this was, for at least the next twenty years, their home.

"Do you think the four of us will be allowed to room together?" Danny asked, as they continued their slow approach.

"I hope so," Charlie said, thoughtfully. He wondered how the rooming was split up, He wondered if it was per family, or alphabetically or how. The family in front of them has a little boy with them and he smiles at Charlie; olive complexion and deep dimples that make him smile back despite himself.

His knowledge of the vaults was slim but he did know that there would be a couple of bunk beds per room. Not much room for a family, he thought to himself. But maybe good for a couple of singles. Maybe he and Rose would be able to make it work, after all, the thought made him a little bit pleased. Danny nudged him as they finally had their turn with the people logging the people who'd made it to the safety of the vault.

"Name, sir?" She asked pleasantly. Her hair was blonde, and set into a series of soft waves. At the root, he could see the very beginnings of dark roots. She has white, bright teeth and her accent is very pronounced.

"Davis, Charlie. Charleston, sorry."

"Alright Charlie, you entered under Lucien Blake?"

"Yeah."

"Age thirty-five?"

"Thirty-four."

"I'll just change that." She smiles, "Still born on eighth September?"

"I am."

"Alright then." She said, and then handed him a bag with a jumpsuit. Blue, and folded in such a fashion that the detailed numbering was visible through the front of the clear bag.

"Please make sure you put your clothing in the pile for incineration." She says. Charlie was still dressed, just like Danny, in his uniform. Suddenly, the idea of parting with it is unbearable and he is about to vocalize as much when she stops him. "Please make this easy for everyone and put your clothes in the pile for incineration. You wouldn't want to be responsible for the contamination fo the whole vault would you?"

He doesn't reply, just steps aside and allowed Danny to speak to her. There was no one waiting behind them, and the long hanging bridge they'd just been stating on began to retract, the noise was almost unbearable. In a small nearby bathroom, he could hear the small boy nattering away to his parents about some planes he saw overhead earlier. Maybe later he'll go see him, give the parents some time to adjust without him. Might do them some good. Might do him some good as well.

"Name, sir?"

"Parks, Daniel."

"Alright, Daniel, you entered under Matthew Lawson?"

"Mmhm."

"Age twenty-six?"

"Twenty-seven."

"I'll change that." She says, and her smile looks too big for her small face. "Still born on eleventh June?"

"Mmhmm"

"Alright then." She pushed on, passing Danny an identical bag with an identical blue jumpsuit inside it. Danny gave the unflattering outfit a look of disgust but accepted it wordlessly. "Please make sure you put your clothing in the pile for incineration.

"Will do," Danny said, and took hold of Charlie by the shoulder, pulling him into the bathroom before he could protest. He wasn't exactly interested in changing in front of his friend but it seemed that Danny wasn't going to give him any other options.

Once inside, Charlie glanced around, noticing a shower with a curtain, a toilet on the same tiled square, a mirror, square that seemed to open into a cabinet and a sink. Wordlessly, Danny starts stripping out of his uniform. He too is wearing a lanyard with his license in it. He tosses it over Charlie's head and it lands in the sink.

"I took the time to turn the sink off." He said, lowering the toilet seat and sitting. Like his legs just can't hold him up any longer.

"What?" Danny asked, exasperated with Charlie's inability to adjust to their new lives with the speed that he had.

"The sink. Word was coming in over the radio and instead of running, I turned the sink off. Like we'd be coming back."

"Don't think about it." Danny advised, "Just...Get dressed."

"I'm not throwing my uniform away," Charlie said, slowly undoing the buttons on his coat.

"What are you going to do with it?"

"Hide it. Come back for it later." Danny eyed him, and then shrug.

"It's your funeral." He said and toed off his leather shoes. He dumped his clothes in a pile with the others. He hopped on one leg as he took off his socks, and if he wasn't fully naked Charlie might have laughed a bit. The nakedness is confronting. Danny doesn't have any shame, but Charlie does so he pulls the curtain across as he finally started stripping off properly. Off came the coat, the tie, the shirt, the undershirt. Then, the shoes, the socks, he pants, the underwear. When he tipped the jumpsuit into his hands, he found that there a pair of tight white briefs included in the package.

He pulled them on first and found them to be incredibly tight. Then he put his feet through the holes at the bottom of the pant leg and pulled them up to his waist. Then, a zipper which went all the way up to the neck where there was a collar to button across his throat like the dog collar of a priest. The feel on his skin with tight, and it pulled on the hair of his legs in an uncomfortable fashion. Annoyed, and uncomfortable, he folded his police jacket up and stashed it behind a large white storage container to come back and get later on. Danny watched him do it but didn't say anything about it.

"You ready to go?" Danny asked. Charlie nodded, and Danny touched his shoulder. Charlie reached up and put a hand on top of his. He smiled, and Charlie smiled back.

"Yeah." He said, and he was grateful that at least he would be in Danny's room; no matter what.

They emerged from the bathroom and walked into the hallway. They passed a couple who were holding one another and crying, the woman was asking if he thought that her parents might have made it to the shelter. He could hear a baby crying somewhere. He stuck close to Danny, and he pushed back against him.

They walked, glued together at the shoulder. Vault-Tec people with their wrist computers stood around trying to console the inconsolable and chit-chatting with one another. Maybe if you work for Vault-Tec, certain annihilation makes for job security. They were mostly ignored, aside from a man with a buzz cut and the blue suit who directed them to the decontamination room.

The radio on the Pipboy is playing a holotape labeled Hangin' on Baby. Charlie would pay, if he had any money, to never hear that song again in his life. Danny blanches at the sound of it and seems to agree with him. And Danny likes Rock and Roll, so that was saying something.

They turned into the decontamination chamber and Charlie frowned slightly. There were a lot of pods, and it gave him pause. Damn, they were taking this contamination thing very seriously. That would make it difficult to get his clothes back. But that was also an issue for later, rather than go in right away, they lingered by the door, observing the distraught people who were led into the room. The little boy smiled at Charlie again and he couldn't help but smile back.

But before too long, the Vault-Tec people herded them into the room as well, and the only pods left were right at the end of the room. Rose looked like she was asleep, and her pod was pulled down over her. Blake was leaning against it, pinched and worried looking. Charlie smiles at him but he doesn't smile back, just touches his arm as he passes by.

People are settling into their pods as comfortably as they can, the things don't seem to be designed with comfort in mind. They looked a bit like seats with handholds jutting out like re-bar at a construction site and when Charlie sits, he found that it was made of solid metal.

The door came down over his body, squishing him into the claustrophobic space, and he felt strongly like there was no air coming in. Or going out. The seat was almost too small and when he buckles the lap belt he just feels too big for space. A deep breath in, and out. He didn't want to end up like poor Rose. It was just for a minute, he comforted himself, just to decontaminate and nothing more. Outside the pod, he can see into the pod opposite to him. Danny offers him a little wave and a smile. Charlie gives him a wave and a smile back.

It was starting to get cold inside the pod. Like how hospitals are cold to try and stop the spread of illness. That didn't make it so weird, but it was still getting colder. Cold enough that he could see the little half breathes he was taking as his oxygen was running out. Across from him, Danny was pounding on the pod, trying to get it to open but Charlie didn't even have the strength left in him to do that.

Ice began to crawl along the outside of his tiny window into the world. His lungs were burning from the lack of air, and he made eye contact again with the equally terrified Danny. He felt like his body was freezing. From his waist down he couldn't feel anything or move. His mind wasn't working, he couldn't interpret what he was seeing and feeling. He prayed to God that the pod would open and let him out.

Suddenly, his neck is frozen stiff, and he can feel little tendrils of ice crawling up and along his face. His vision was full of dark spots, and blacking out around the edges, and he can't even move his eyes. He wanted a hug from his mum, he missed her being in Ballarat. His eyelids drifted closed. His brain stopped thinking.

Outside the cryogenic stasis pods, Vault-Tec workers began the process of replacing their charges blood with light blue cryogenic fluid. Blissfully unaware of what they were yet to suffer through in Vault A111.


End file.
